MORE LIFE.
WHEN spring-time prospers in the grass,
And fills the vales with tender bloom,
And light winds whisper as they pass
Of sunnier days to come:
In spite of all the joy she brings
To flood and field, to hill and grove,
This is the song my spirit sings, —
More light, more life, more love !
And when, her time fulfilled, she goes
So gently from her vernal place,
And meadow wide and woodland glows
With sober summer grace :
When on the stalk the ear is set,
With all the harvest promise bright,
My spirit sings the old song yet, —
More love, more life, more light !
-183-
